MARK SILBER:
CLASS OF 1962
Hackettstown High SchoolClass of 1962
Hackettstown, NJ
Madison Township High SchoolClass of 1973
Old bridge, NJ
Rutgers University Class of 1962
New brunswick, NJ
Hackettstown Middle SchoolClass of 1958
Hackettstown, NJ
Miller Street Elementary SchoolClass of 1956
Newark, NJ
MARK's Story
After 49 years of marriage and without an unkind word to say about my ex, I live alone in a 200 year old home in Frenchtown, NJ. It's lonely, but Frenchtown is smaller than Hackettstown so it's a way of returning to my roots. All I need now are the right initials to carve into one of my sugar maples. I live in hope... .
After high school, I went to Rutgers for 4 years, then on to drop out of a masters program in ecology, in Canada. I then got a provisional certificate and taught high school science in Madison Township, now Old Bridge.
But the Selective Service, upon hearing I was in Canada, drafted me, despite the science exemption following Sputnik beating us to outer space.
So, I spent 2 years in the military service, at Ft. Sam Houston, Texas, where I started night law school. Upon discharge, I married Michele, from whom I'm divorced, finished law school at Seton Hall, and opened a practice in Metuchen, where I've been for the past 48 years. Since moving to Frenchtown, I keep saying I should close the Metuchen office.
Today, I'm a better father and lawyer than ever. I drive in the right hand lane, glance in the rear view mirror with some regrets but still see a smile on my face.
Reunions mean more to me than ever. I'm glad I went and grateful for those who worked to make them happen. I'd...Expand for more
love to grow closer to many of you. I miss those who've passed, especially Joyce Powell, who brefriended and walked with me when I was such an arrogant snot. Today, I'd like to reach out to Pat Travena, Amy Finkle, Janice Manfra, and James Ayres.
True story about James Ayres. He used to bully me - never touched me, but would intimidate me, cut me off on his bike. One day at the Sandbar, he was splashing water in my face. I left the water and returned to our blanket where my mother was sitting. She chided me for running away. She rose ferom her chair which scared the hell out me. I asked where she was going, because no kid wanted his mother to run interference for him lest he be known as the biggest sissy in town. She spke the most dreaded of words, "I'm going to have a talk with him."
"No, don't!" I called to no avail. I watched in horrow as the pair walked downstream in obvious conversation.
Upon her return, I asked what she said to him. "I told him he was bigger than you, and he should be protecting you; not bullying you, and he's coming for lunch this Saturday." James and I were friends after that, and, in fact, he did look out after me. I came to understand he was lonely. I've tried finding him, but can't...
All of you mean so much to me. I think of you often, more with each passing year.
Mark
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